A Kiss for Emily (Emily Stokes Series)

by J. P. Galuska

  “Young man!” Dad said, refilling his cup. “You continue to impress me. I would have stayed and listened.”

  “Don’t get too impressed, Sir. I’m just an ol’ country boy at heart.”

  I pressed the tip of my nose up, giving a quiet snort meant only for Sam’s ears.

  Dad must have heard it. A devilish grin spread across his face. “Is that so? I distinctively remember you saying that you can’t stay formed in direct water. Perhaps it’s time to trade my shotgun in for a garden hose.”

  “Dad!” I yelped, as my cheeks began to burn, trying to stop the visualization in my head.

  “Mr. Stokes.” Sam stood up tall and proud. He towered over the entire family. “I am very fond of your daughter.” He took in a deep breath, expanding his chest creating the effect of a brick wall. “I will do my very best to keep her a virtuous woman.”

  It was difficult to know if my Dad had insulted him, or if Sam was just playing along.

  Kat looked amongst the three of us. “You guys are weird! I’m going to find Mom.” Kat left, stomping her feet in exaggerated disgust.

  Reaching for a banana, Dad asked, “Did she ever get anything to eat?”

  I shook my head no.

  Plucking a second one from the bunch, he balanced it on the top of his mug and returned his attention to Sam. “All kidding aside, I’m not sure any of us have half a clue what we are getting ourselves into, especially the two of you.” Dad pointed his banana at Sam, and then to me. “You are in uncharted territory, a new frontier.”

  “Dad—”

  “Don’t ‘Dad’ me, Emily. I am very serious. This will affect every part of our lives. Even the small things. How do you expect to go out on a date?”

  “We’ll just stay home.”

  Dad gave me the look. “What about when all your other friends want you to join them? I don’t want to be a kill-joy, but this is not going to be easy for you, or the rest of the family.”

  Just when I thought he was going for the kill, his body language softened.

  “Don’t get me wrong, I approve of Sam. I’m just saying it’s going to be a challenge.”

  “Thanks, Dad.” My arms wrapped around him tight.

  “I love you, Pumpkin.” Then he took a step back, he gave me a tight-lipped grin and a nod of the head. His eyes turned to Sam. “She’s my baby.” A look of warning accompanied the statement.

  Sam nodded.

  “Good.” In a surprising burst of energy, Dad turned to enter the adjoining dining room. With a ridiculous looking shuffle, he started his exit, continuing with a cheery little hum.

  Sam and I looked on as Dad walked through the house conducting the air with the banana.

  “He didn’t even spill his coffee,” I said, mildly embarrassed by what I’d just witnessed.

  “I like your family,” Sam said, returning to normal consistency.

  “That’s a relief!” A laugh escaped from a secret hiding place. “I have to admit, we have fun with our weirdness.”

  The kitchen became quiet. Finally.

  “Tell me something about yourself, Sam.” I couldn’t imagine ever growing tired of saying his name.

  “What do you want to know?”

  “Everything!”

  He flashed his white teeth in a generous smile. “You already know a lot about me, actually. I’ve already told you about how my parents met, the cotton plantation in Louisiana, my life here in Kansas. What else do you want to know?”

  “What have you been doing the past, how many years?”

  His voice became empty. “It’s been lonely, Emily.” He reached out and hooked my waist, pulling me off the counter.

  “Don’t you ever talk to anybody?”

  “Naw. We live mostly like nomads. Over time, the concept of relationships fade away.”

  “Maybe that’s what’s supposed to happen.”

  Sam’s brow rose.

  “It would be creepy if dead people started knocking on the front door, wanting to come in and socialize.”

  “I s’pose so. Except for those orbs. They’re nothing but mischief makers.”

  “Kinda like you,” I teased.

  Sam moved directly in front of me. His fingers combed through my hair, becoming tangled at the ends. He pulled my hair to one side and examined the snarl. “Do you think I am creepy?”

  His question made me smile. “Not as creepy as the kiss Zachary Melcomb gave me in seventh grade.”

  “Who?” Sam asked, his face full of surprise.

  "All kidding aside, I said it last night and I’ll continue saying it: I’m really glad you are here. It was a scary ride getting to this place—”

  Sam cringed. “I am so sorry, for everything that happened.”

  “It’s not your fault, Sam. And who knows, maybe we wouldn’t be together if it happened any other way. I truly believe things happen for a reason.” Maybe I do believe in destiny.

  Traces of worry melted from Sam’s face and were replaced by such utter happiness. “You are an amazing woman, Emily.”

  His words nearly took my breath away. They way he said them with such authenticity. And the way he looked me in the eyes. It made my heart dance with joy.

  “Do you want to get out of here?” I asked, with ulterior motives in mind, mostly about kissing and how wonderful I knew it would be.

  “Where would you like to go?” he asked.

  “It’s a nice day for the farm.” I batted my eyelashes.

  “It would be nice knowing your daddy isn’t nearby waiting with the garden hose.”

  As my laugh eased into a sigh, and my gaze dropped, my attention was drawn to Sam’s hands resting on my hips. They nearly circled the entire circumference of my waist.

  “You have big hands!”

  “I know!” Smugness crossed Sam’s face.

  I blushed, and wondered if he was privy to the “size of hand” rule the girls used to laugh about in middle school.

  Without dwelling, Sam hooked my arm in his. “To the farm.”

  Chapter Forty-two

  WRONGFUL HALLOWS

  ALEX STASHED HIS JEEP in the distant woods and walked the open prairie on foot. Stepping inside the doorless entryway, he threw his belongings on the table which sent a flurry of dust into the air. A common gray mouse scurried across the floor and disappeared between the floor and the bottom cupboards.

  Inspecting his arm, Alex unwound the bandage that held his IV in place. Ignoring the pain, he peeled off that last bit of sticky tape and methodically pulled out the long tube that had been inserted the night before. Blood spewed from the tiny hole. In a quick panic, he grabbed for the pile of gauze and wrapped it back around his wound.

  Taking a seat at the table, he rummaged through his backpack and took out the box of cupcakes he had stolen from the Walgreen’s the day before. He was hungry, but needed a fix first.

  With business taken care of, he grabbed the package of cupcakes, tore open the end of the box and shoved one in his mouth. While chewing, he reminisced about the days when he and his father used this old abandoned Easley place as a hunting shack.

  When everything was still good.

  Returning to the backpack, he fished around until he found a small wooden picture frame and set it on the table. “Don’t worry, Emily. I’m going to get my shit together. I will be a great man for you.”

  Chapter Forty-three

  THE KISS

  I WAS FINALLY GOING TO GET IT. After years of dreaming about it, and a few more years of running from it, I was finally going to get my kiss. And not just any old kiss. The kind of kiss that makes you weak in the knees and your heart skip a beat, that leaves you breathless and your head in the clouds, all at the same time.

  “What are you thinking about now?” Sam asked.

  “Oh,” I stammered, realizing both sides of the riverbank were full of flowers. More than I ever thought possible. “Do you do that?” I asked.

  “What?”

  “The flower thing.�
�� I snapped off a cluster of tall yellow flowers as we walked past on our way to the farm.

  “Yes. For you,” he said with a childish grin.

  “How do you do it?”

  “It’s not as easy to explain as electonegativity, mostly because there are no words to adequately describe the scientific property—”

  “I give up. Just speak farmer.”

  “Memories,” he blurted.

  “What does that mean?”

  “Just like you and me, the Earth also has memories. If it existed, I can reproduce it.”

  “No way! How did you learn to do that?”

  “I discovered it by accident. I actually learned how to reproduce other things before I figured out how to make myself appear.”

  Sam remained quiet as we walked, perhaps allowing me to conceive another intelligent question. “Can you reproduce an elephant?”

  He laughed. “No, it has to be something that was actually part of the environment at some point in time.”

  “How about a dinosaur?”

  “First of all, I think those memories might be too old, but secondly, why would I want to?”

  “Yeah, just because you can, doesn’t mean you should. I don’t know what I was thinking. That was the kind of question Kat would ask.”

  Sam looked down at me, an eyebrow raised.

  I pointed to my hair. “I am entitled to use it as an excuse, occasionally.”

  “That might work if Kat’s hair were blonde too, but she’s not. I just think it runs in the DNA.”

  “No one likes a smart ass.”

  “You do.”

  I stuck out my tongue.

  He laughed harder.

  The old stump beside the stepping stone bridge came into view. “Is Jedd real?”

  “Ah, my good friend, the badger.” The corners of Sam’s mouth turned up. “Yes, he’s real.”

  “I am so envious of you.” The words were out of my mouth before I was even aware I had been thinking them.

  Sam stopped abruptly. “Don’t let yourself be fooled. I will share everything I have with you, but it is you, Miss Emily, who is truly the lucky one.”

  Me? What could I possibly have that made me so lucky? I was a senior in a new school, with no friends. There was nothing special about my life…Of course, life.

  Grabbing Sam’s hand, my tongue began to tingle with his sweet, musky taste. I could hardly wait for a kiss. My palms started to sweat just thinking about it.

  As we took to the stone pathway that crossed over to Sam’s side of the woods, unexpected memories crushed my happy thoughts. Vivid flashbacks of me standing in the rain with my friends accusing me of making up Sam stung the back of my throat. My legs stopped functioning half-way across the creek.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “What does your house look like?” My voice cracked midway through the sentence.

  Sam’s face filled with sadness. “Ahh, I s’pose you are referring to when I’m not there?”

  “Is it…falling apart?”

  “It’s been vacant for a very long time, Emily. Since Pa left.”

  I dropped Sam’s hand and began to run. I needed to see the decrepit farm.

  Bounding out into the open field, I came to a dead stop as I looked upon the land as it had appeared to me that horrible day: empty except for the crumbling abode. For the first time since arriving home, the reality of my recent experiences hit hard.

  I heard Sam come to rest a short distance behind me.

  Staring over the field, my mouth opened and out came something of a confession. “While in the hospital, my greatest fear wasn’t about being crazy. It was about the farm… of you coming to an end.” Tears clouded my vision before falling down my face. “I kept trying to come up with a logical argument for why I should be allowed to continue with my delusions.”

  In a giant step, Sam came before me and fell to his knees. He took hold of my hanging arms and looked up at me with tender eyes. “You don’t have to be afraid any longer, Miss Emily. That nightmare is over.”

  I knew without doubt that Sam was indeed my protector. My heart began to pain at the amount of love I felt for him.

  “It’s gonna be all right, Emily. I promise.”

  Rising to his feet, Sam wrapped me in his massive body. The force of his chest pressing against me was stronger than I expected, and I nuzzled my cheek against him. Basking, I welcomed his scent as it filled my senses, ignoring the burn deep inside my lungs. The hug that I desperately needed last night was finally mine. I felt its power, and it felt good.

  “I love you, Sam Easley.”

  “I know,” he whispered.

  The hug continued. A warmness spread over my body and I never wanted him to let go.

  “Do you taste me, too?” I finally asked.

  “I can’t taste, remember?” Sam replied.

  I thought back to our previous conversation. “You know, that doesn’t make much sense.” I looked up to meet his eyes, hoping I didn’t insult him. His smile told me I had not.

  “The rules are definitely different in the afterlife. I’m just glad I can experience most things.” He inhaled deeply, and then added. “You smell as lovely as a warm apple pie.”

  “Really? I could have sworn the bottle of conditioner said Wild Flowers.”

  Adding a bit more pull into the hug, Sam said, “If you’re auditioning for stand-up, you’d better sit back down.”

  “Well, I thought it was funny.”

  Sam took a step back, still holding me in a distant hug. My arms fell short, so I placed my hands on top of his.

  “Remember the first time you tried to hold me and I started choking?”

  “Yes,” he said, “and actually, I’m wondering why you aren’t choking now.”

  “I still feel it. It’s just not as strong.” Just then, I noticed that the sunshine really did shine through his body. “Why is that?”

  He pulled free and stroked his chin. “It seems like you are the only one who experiences it. Plus, the response is weakening...”

  “Wouldn’t that be a good thing?”

  “One thing I’ve discovered about being dead is that consistency is good.”

  “And we’re not.”

  Rubbing the back of his neck, he started pacing. “It makes me imagine a lowered resistance, or maybe even tolerance.”

  “Huh?”

  “I must ask myself, ‘Why would Miss Emily’s body be less responsive to mine?’”

  “I am still not grasping the bad part of this.” I was too focused on kissing and hugging without the coughing.

  His pacing stopped. “The universe is made up of things that attract and things that repel. We’ve changed from repulsion to attraction, which leads to connecting, like atoms.”

  I looked at Sam to see if he was joking. His face was serious. Taking a firm stance, I threw out my last doubt about him. “Do you promise me that you are not trying to steal my body?”

  His gaze narrowed. “First of all, this ol’ country boy is not into cross-dressing. Secondly, there are a lot of things I would like to do to your body, and stealing it is not on the list.”

  I looked at Sam. He looked at me.

  I batted my eyelashes. “What kind of things?”

  Sam grinned and stepped closer. “Oh, girl. The way you tease me. But seriously—”

  How his flirting stopped short created a spark of panic in my stomach. His solemn expression made it surge. “How bad could it be?”

  “If my hunch is correct, we’ll have to live with very strict rules.”

  “Rules? I’m in high school. I’m not afraid of rules! Tell me, Sam. What can be so bad?”

  Staring off into the distance, his shoulders rounded before turning away from me. I wanted to go to him, but resisted. With his back still towards me, he finally spoke. “I can still remember the day I died, like it was yesterday.”

  I covered my gasp of sorrow a bit too late.

  “The rain had stopped coming. Eve
rything was hot and dry. It was the summer of 1936 and Kansas was deep into the days of the Great Dust Bowl. I still remember going outside in the daytime, and the air was so thick with dirt that it looked like the middle of the night instead…. Luck saw to it that we had a deep well, so we were able to keep a small garden growing, the one that you and I planted.

  “Pa started making gin during the Prohibition and even though the ban was lifted in ‘34, he kept on distilling just ‘cause so many counties in Kansas remained dry. Plus life was hard for a lot of folks, being it was also the time of The Great Depression an’ all. Pa thought it neighborly, and gave most of his moonshine away on Friday nights at the barn dances.

  “It was a Sunday morning, and Ma went out to the barn to fetch something before church you see, and the next thing I knew, the entire barn was engulfed in flames. Everything was so dry. By the time I got there, Pa was hunched over Ma. I ran into the barn to untie the horses. The last thing I remember about being alive was seeing the roof come down on me.”

  His tragic story was out. I had finally heard the ugly truth. Again, I had the urge to go to him. But I waited.

  “Our situation is complicated. It could be very bad for you.” His eyes narrowed. “At first, I couldn’t figure it out, but now it all makes perfect sense. You taste the smoke that filled my lungs.”

  I responded with a blank stare.

  “Are you familiar with the part of the wedding ceremony, ‘and the two shall become one’?”

  I nodded.

  “That refers to the union of spirits. The consummation creates the thread that binds two creatures together. Our souls are trying to connect.”

  “But we’re not getting married. We haven’t even had sex yet!”

  “Apparently that doesn’t matter. Something’s different.”

  Ideas buzzed around my head. Nothing made sense. “What would be so awful if they joined, anyway?”

  “I’m dead.” His eyebrows rose to a fervid stare.

  “So? Married people die all the time. I don’t understand the big deal.”

  “The big deal is that I’m already dead. Once the thread is sewn, it’s very difficult to break. You just have to believe me, Emily. If the Gate Keeper finds me, he could take you to Hell with me!”